


The Universe Hates Kenny McCormick

by craigstucker



Category: South Park
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, F/M, M/M, Party, halloween fic, kyle is idiot in danger, tw! descriptions of blood/gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craigstucker/pseuds/craigstucker
Summary: "Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"Kyle stomped, throwing an angry fist up at the sky. "You bastards!"OrAs Kenny's feelings grow stronger and stronger for the fiery redhead who he'd known since diapers, he realizes that the universe may have other plans.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! This is going to be short, no more than five chapters and i'm excited to share it :) hope u enjoy

"I swear to God, I'm seriously going to do it this time." Kyle Broflovski muttered as he slumped into the library chair that stood at the edge of the table. Stan and Kenny looked up from the textbook they were sharing to study for a global quiz that would take place next period. Kyle released his own folder onto the table with a thump, and settled into the chair with a defeated look upon his expression. "I'm seriously going to murder Cartman." 

Stan Marsh put his textbook aside, exasperation falling into his tone. "Oh, brother. Here we go again." 

Kyle crossed his arms, blinking at his best friend. "No, I'm being sincere. I actually have a real motive to do it now." 

Stan rested his cheek in his palm. "You say that all the time." 

"What'd he do this time?" Kenny questioned, curiosity overtaking his aim to study. Ever since they were children, the ongoing feud between Kyle and Eric Cartman had been notorious around the town of South Park. Now, being juniors in high school with an intent to be more mature, their antipathy for each other had lost its edge over the years. Still, there were nostalgic moments of conflict every now and then, and Kenny found it incredible that there were some things that had the perfect ability to never change after all these years. 

"Our debate class—which, need I remind you, he only joined to spite me—had the topic of discrimination. And of course, of fucking course he had to volunteer to argue against me! He went on and on about how minorities shouldn't exist in America because each country should have a, quote on quote, 100% population of one race! Who the hell does he think he is? I couldn't even interrupt him because it's a rule that we can't debate before the opposer is finished talking!" 

Kyle took a stormy breath, dropping his flushed face onto the table with frustration. He still wore a hat over his head, red curls dripping from his hair beyond the fabric like spilt wine. Kenny watched as the strings of hair fell into the boy's eyes while he grumbled to himself. 

"Dude, you've got to relax. Take pills, or something." Stan said warily, before looking back to the textbook absentmindedly. "Cartman is just an ass. He'll grow up one of these days." 

"But that's just it, Stan." Kyle replied with defeated emphases. "We keep excusing his actions by saying, oh it's just Cartman. Oh, it's just South Park! I'm tired of it!" 

Kenny nudged the red head's shoulder. "You know, the librarian is gonna kick your ass if you don't lower your voice." 

Kyle looked up, nervously waving at the glaring librarian who stood with a glare from her position at the front desk. He lowered his voice, shifting harrowingly in his seat. "I just want out." 

While he kept it to himself, Kenny knew that if Kyle wanted out, then he wanted out too. It was as clear as a gleaming crystal in a pitch black cave, or the shore that reflected an ocean as blue as the sky. Kenny's mind bounced from wall to wall, and his heart hammered at the reoccurring thought. 

He wanted to run away with Kyle. 

He wanted to keep Kyle safe. 

He _liked_ Kyle. 

Stan was speaking. "We'll be out of here in a year. You'll be going off to Yale or Harvard, and me and Kenny will visit you from Arizona, or something. Right, Kenny?" 

The blonde was caught off guard. "Huh? Oh, yeah... definitely!" He slipped an easy grin, sitting up. Stan gave him an odd look. “But uh, what were we talking about?” 

"You okay?" Kyle asked with gentle eyes focused on Kenny. "You're all jumpy." 

Fuck, fuck, and _fuck_. Kyle was going to start realizing something was off. He was smart like that. Kenny's clammy hands tugged anxiously on the lose string dangling from his sweatshirt. It had been almost a week since he realized that he liked Kyle, and if Kenny didn’t stop acting so off soon, Kyle was going to realize it too. 

"No, I'm good." He cleared his throat in response. "Just... thinking about college stuff, I guess." 

While Kyle didn't look convinced, he took the hint that the boy wished for a change of subject. "Oh. Yeah, me too. It feels like everybody's just like, watching to see me fail, you know?" 

Kenny was quick to disagree. "There's no way you're failing at anything. Don’t think like that." 

Kyle looked deep in thought for a moment, before shaking his head and reaching into his backpack. Stan went back to his own work, and Kenny watched as the redhead slid out a thick textbook with neat post-it notes sticking out on certain pages. He opened his textbook and skimmed through pages, before grabbing a set of different highlighters out of his pencil case. 

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “Adorable, Ky.” 

Kyle gave a lighthearted eye roll in response. “Shut up.” 

”No, sincerely! The way you color code every little thing in you bag reminds me of our kindergarten days. Aren’t we juniors now?” 

“Fuck you, dude. It’s actually a very efficient way of keeping all your books organized. You know, ever since I started this system in second grade, I’ve been able to separate all my classes and organize different sections. Like, with homework, I’m able to keep all the sheets in separate binders and then I put color coded post it notes on the sheets that I have to either study or complete at home. I put red post it notes on the ones that’ll take me the longest to do, and green post it notes are the ones I stick on homework I can finish quickly. Yellow post it notes are for the mild assignments. The ones that could go either way. Like stop lights, you know? Then, when I get home, I pull out the sheets with the red post it notes and—“ 

“Kyle!" Stan interrupted as the redhead seemed to get lost in his words. 

Kyle’s mouth finally shut, and he turned curiously to Stan. “What?” 

“You’re going to run out of breath.” 

“You’re the one with asthma. Why’d you stop me?” 

Kenny, on the other hand, was hooked by Kyle’s words. “Continue, Ky. I’m on the edge of my seat.” He remarked with an entertained snicker. “Stanny stopped you because he’s being a party pooper.” 

“No, I stopped him because you,_ Kyle_, can talk for hours and hours, andyou,_ Kenny_, encourage him. I need to get this paper finished by the end of the period.” 

Kyle crossed his arms in an offended response. “Well, at least someone likes hearing me talk.” 

Stan held back an eye roll at the dramatics. “It’s not that I don’t like hearing you talk, Kyle. You guys are just obsessed with each other and Kenny lets you get away with everything.” 

Kenny laughed loudly, earning a glare from a studying student a few tables away. He stretched his arm to wrap around Kyle’s shoulders and pulled him close, painting at Stan. “You think_ we’re_ obsessed with each other? Wasn’t it you two that called each other super best friends until the 8th grade?” 

Stan let out a surprised burst of laughter at the reminder of their former nickname for each other. "Oh man, we were so annoying." 

"I stand by that label," Kyle added with a playful beam. 

"You three!" The librarian hissed. "You're too loud!" 

It was silent outside of their own table, and it was only then that they had noticed the scowls other peers around the room had been giving them. 

"Sorry," Stan answered after a moment in a cautious whisper. "We won't be loud anymore." 

"One more chance." The woman replied huffily. 

"Alright, lets shut up now." Kyle suggested quietly. "I still have to finish—" 

"What's up, gaywads?" 

The booming voice echoed throughout the silent library, and Kyle groaned with defeat. 

Eric Cartman's footsteps approached their table, and his loud voice was deafening in the stillness. 

"So, Kyle. What did you think of my suggestion in debate class today? You know, the statement about diversity in America? I think I made some pretty valid points, and I'm really liking the whole 'no interruption' rule. I can actually get my opinions out there without your big mouth intruding on my goddamn beliefs every five seconds and—" 

"You four! Out!" The librarian practically screeched from across the room. 

"But it was him being loud, not us!" Kyle defended quickly. 

"I said out!" 

Kyle opened his mouth to retort but Kenny was fast enough to cover the boy's lips, leaving his words to be mumbled angrily behind Kenny's hand. 

"Let's just go already." Kenny encouraged, nodding at Stan to wrap up his stuff. "It's still nice outside so we can—s_hit, Kyle!_ Did you just fucking bite my hand?" 

"It was in the way of my teeth." Kyle spat sarcastically with a glare. 

Kenny smiled mischievously and raised his eyebrows. "Well if you're into that stuff in bed, all you had to do was ask." 

"Ugh, Kenny. I hate you." 

"No you don't." The blonde replied, the consistent toothy grin still stuck on his expression. 

And yet, through all the joking and teasing, Kenny's heart was a beating drum. _Kyle was everything._

The four exited the library and headed down the hall to their lockers as their free period came to an end, and Cartman's rambling showed no signs of stopping. 

"So, there's this super cool Xbox game that my mom is planning to get me as a surprise. We picked it out together online." 

"Well, then it's not a surprise, is it?" Kyle. 

"Yes it is!" Cartman. 

"You helped her pick it out! What kind of surprise is that?" Kyle. 

"I was surprised when I saw it on the shelf!" Cartman. 

The two went back and forth until they reached their lockers. Stan caught sight of Wendy putting on lipstick and dashed up to talk to her with eager puppy dog eyes. Much to Kyle's delight, Cartman's locker wasn’t very close to his and Kenny's, and the bickering died down as Cartman went off further down the hall. 

It was only in the rest of action and commotion that Kyle realized the burning sensation on his index finger. Kenny looked at him questionably when the redhead looked at his hand and winced. 

"Paper cut." He explained. 

Kenny stared at the thin blood that dripped carelessly down his friend's finger. "Kyle, that actually looks pretty deep." 

"I know. Don’t let my mom find out." He joked as he gathered books from his locker. "I'll see ya after class, okay?" 

Kenny stared at the blood with uneasiness. Memories of splatters of thick gore traced across his memory, and his face grew pale at the graphic image in his brain. 

"Woah, what's the matter?" Kyle's tone suddenly shifted to worrisome as he watched his friend's wide grey eyes become haunted. 

"Is he okay?" Stan asked as he approached the two. 

_Blood. Blood. Blood. _

"Sorry," Kenny rasped out, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. "Um... I'm fine. Sorry." 

Stan and Kyle looked at each other questionably. 

Kenny couldn’t deal with this right now. "Listen, Kyle. Put a band aid on that." 

Kyle looked down at his bloody finger, formerly not realizing how bad it had looked. "Right, yeah. I will. Are you like, okay?" 

"Jesus, dude. What happened?" Stan demanded with alarm. Kyle swiped his hand off to the side and away from his friends stares. 

"It's just a papercut. Seriously, Kenny. Are you okay?" 

"Yes. Just..." Kenny let out a jarring breath just as the bell signaling the next class to begin. He looked to Kyle urgently just before turning to walk away as he quickly ordered, "Just clean that up, okay?" 

* 

Kenny didn't think much of Kyle's bloody finger. Accidents happen, right? 

Just like they had happened over, and over, and over again in his lifetime. 

A meteor would drop from the sky. 

_" Oh my god, they killed Kenny! "_

_" You bastards! "_

He would get burned alive by being in the same area as a spark of fire. 

_" Oh my god, they killed Kenny! "_

_" You bastards! "_

Routines did get awfully tiring. 

Kenny walked home with Karen that day. Usually, he would take the bus with the rest of his peers, but Karen had been tutoring some of the younger kids in math, and he decided to wait for her. 

“So, what’re you doing for Halloween? Are you dressing up?” Karen questioned. She was nearing her final years in middle school, and the spark of innocence that remained in the good of her heart all these years made Kenny a proud big brother. 

“I’m a little old for that, I guess.” He chuckled. “Do you need help with your costume when we get home?” 

Karen shook her head. “I’m making it all by myself. It’s like, a zombie prom queen. I just need to find some green paint to splatter all over me for the zombie factor.” 

“We could go to the store to get some safe body paint right now if ya’ want.” Kenny suggested. “The paint we have a home is for construction stuff. What do you say?” 

“Yeah, lets do it!” The brunette exclaimed eagerly. 

The store wasn’t far from the school, and the pair was easily able to cross a few streets to reach their destination. The two found their way over to the body paint section, and while Karen began to look through the options, Kenny pulled out his phone. The groupchat had increased his amount of notifications, and he laughed down at the messages. 

**Kyle Broflovski**: I JUST FELL DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS 

**69stanmarsh69**: HAHA 

**bigboned**: told u guys jews don’t have balance 

**_Bigboned:_**_ changed_**_ Kyle Broflovski’s_**_ name to _**_clumsy jew _**

**clumsy jew**: Fuck you, fatass. 

**clumsy jew**: And I hit my finger on the way down and it started bleeding again. Now I have a bruise on my knee and a big ass cut. 

**69stanmarsh9**: ur luck is awful today omfg 

**kenny mclongdick**: it’s like ur cursed 

_Cursed. Cursed. Cursed._

_“I die all the time. And you assholes never remember!”_

_Cursed._

“Found it!” Karen cheered as she pulled a bottle of green off the shelf. Kenny blinked as he was brought out of his disturbing thoughts. He put on a smile for Karen as his expression shifted in a matter of seconds. 

“Looks cool. You ready to head home?” 

Karen nodded and Kenny pulled out the ten dollars he had earned for his shift at City Wok the other night as they walked toward the register. 

He let out a deep breath as his phone beeped once again. 

**69stanmarsh69**: so what r we doing for halloween tonight 

**clumsy jew**: I want candy. 

**bigboned**: I WANT CANDY 

**69stanmarsh69**: craig and those guys are having a party at tokens place there’s supposed to be a shit ton of treats 

**69stanmarsh69**: and drinks 

**clumsy jew**: Okay, so let’s go to that. What time? 

**kenny mclongdick**: im free anytime after 7 after i drop karen off at a friends house 

**69stanmarsh69**: kay sounds good it starts at 8 

**69stanmarsh69**: not to b a mother but kyle bring your insulin if you’re gonna have alcohol kenny don’t get too drunk and cartman don’t eat all the fuckin candy 

**bigboned**: what i choose to do with the candy at the party is my business hippie 

* 

Halloween night had been the highlight of the year so far for Stan Marsh, and it was barley past 9pm. 

Token’s parties were always loud and vibrant, but Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman had only been to a few. As time went on, they weren’t exactly the most popular group. They were always getting into trouble, and there were more than several students who held grudges from their misadventures in the fourth grade. Things in South Park had calmed down, but what the four experienced in that period of time was enough craziness to last a lifetime. 

Stan had been hanging around Tweek, Craig, and Clyde, who had each been different variations of high and drunk. They had been playing an intense round of beer pong, and Stan had gotten bored of watching Craig rest his cheek on Tweek’s peachy blonde hair. 

He wandered away from his source of alcohol, wobbling unsteadily on a mission to find his best friends. Kyle and Kenny couldn’t have been far. 

“Stanny!” Kenny greeted as he wrapped a hug around him. 

Kyle appeared beside the blonde with a content expression and a fruity drink in hand. Kenny had two beers for himself, and shoved one into Stan's hands. 

"Can you hol' this for me, Staniel?" 

"Mhm." Stan replied sluggishly, overall feeling the weight of his own alcohol. "Have you guys seen Cartman anywhere?" 

"God, Stan! If I see Cartman, I swear, I'll just die!" Kyle claimed with wide eyes and an even louder tone than usual. "I don' even know what to do about him these days. Not like I'm obsessed with him or anything, but I gotta... gotta keep my guard up, y'know? Right Stan?" 

"You talk so, _so, so_ much." 

"So are you saying you hate me? Are you, Stan?" 

"No! You're my best friend, and I would die for you. Seriously, Kyle. I swear to god." 

"Super best friend?" Kyle questioned, mystified. 

"Yes. Now where th' hell did Kenny go?" 

"Attention!" 

Stan and Kyle turned to see Kenny's wobbling statue standing next to a bowl of chips on a wooden table, not too far from where he had stood a minute ago. He was using his beer can as a not so useful microphone, and he pointed to Kyle. 

"I'm gonna sing a song for the best—the best person! The greatest in here!" 

Stan, while drunk, noticed something sparkling in Kenny's eyes. Something raw and honest and true. 

"Kyle Broflovski, you are the _greatest!_ The best, best,_ best_ person ever!" Kenny broke out into a drunken sloppy melody, singing in a high pitched voice. "Broflovski Kyle, the _best!_" 

No one was really paying attention at that point. Teens had gone back to dancing and making out with each other on the leather couches. Stan noticed Tweek grabbing himself a drink and mixing it in with his coffee, while Token was adjusting the volume of the speakers. 

And then there was Kyle. Stan curiously looked to his best friend, and there was something so similar in his eyes—like he and Kenny were emotionally linked. He was looking up at Kenny singing his heart out on a table in Token Black's mansion, and Stan hadn't ever seen Kyle look so enamored. 

Stan looked back to Kenny once again, and that same look remained dancing across his expression like shadows in the dark. 

"What the fuck." Stan whispered to himself as he came to realization. 

Kenny liked Kyle. Kyle liked Kenny. 

_Holy shit, dude._


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #KYLE: dear bad luck, leave me the fuck alone!

Kyle awoke to arms shaking him, and he curled in on himself, weakly slapping the palms away from him.

“Cmon, dude. it’s time to get up. _Now._” a voice announced far too loudly and upbeat for the early rising morning. 

“Stan?” Kyle guessed as he opened sleepy green eyes. “The fuck? Go back to bed. It’s like, six in the morning.”

“It’s almost noon,” Stan answered, crossing his arms. “I really need to talk to you. Before Kenny wakes up.”

That caught Kyle’s attention, and he fought his tired limbs to sit up in his sleeping bag. The three had slept over at Stan’s house after Cartman had locked them out of his own where they formerly planned to sleep.

Kyle noticed Kenny’s lightly snoring form faced away from them on the other side of the room. The redhead looked at Stan in concern. “You okay? What’s up with you?”

Stan looked down, chewing his lip as he searched for the right words to say.

“I know you like Kenny.”

Marsh didn’t expect to be so blunt and he instantly shut his mouth after the words slipped out.

Kyle sputtered once, blinked, and then tried to speak again. “Stan… I— don’t be ridiculous.”

“I saw the way you were looking at him last night. It was the look that I give Wendy or the look that Cartman gives ham. I know what I saw, and I saw it in Kenny too.”

“You didn’t see shit,” Kyle exclaimed in a harsher tone than intended. “You’re talking nonsense. I’m going to go eat. Just… don’t. Please.”

"Kyle, you can't keep lying to yourself."

"I don’t like him."

"You set yourself up. There could really be something special in you two." Stan exclaimed, lowering his voice. "Don’t you see how ridiculous it is? You're both helplessly pining for each other and fail to realize that he—" 

"Stan!" Kyle hissed. His eyes were full of fear, but his expression covered it with a layer of anger. "Don’t do this. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him. There is _nothing_. We're not some sort of puzzle that you can solve—we're friends! And there's nothing more to it. Now drop it."

Stan watched impatiently as Kyle scrambled from his blanket and shuffled out of the bedroom door with frustration marking his steps. Stan sighed left with Kenny’s seemingly sleeping form, before quickly following his friend out.

Neither of the boys noticed that Kenny had stopped snoring, and neither noticed that his eyes had opened moments ago.

*

Kyle walked home from Stan's house by himself. He had his fists balled into his jacket, and he knew that he was practically stomping down the sidewalk. No matter how ridiculous he imagined himself looking, he couldn't stop the release of anger that was being taken out on the sidewalk below. 

"Fucking... stupid Stan... crazy assumptions... turning into fucking Eric Cartman." He mumbled angrily. 

After Kenny had tiredly joined Stan and Kyle downstairs, the three had silently sat around the table. Mrs. Marsh had made eggs and was surprised to see that the boys had stayed the night. She was asleep when they had stumbled through the door with the alcohol wearing off last night, and she continued to give Stan odd looks throughout breakfast. They were getting older, and sleepovers became less adorable to parents and more childish. Kyle could care less. 

After eating while each dealing with their own brand of hangovers, Stan had announced that he was going back to bed, signaling the two to get home. Kenny and Kyle lived on the opposite sides of town, and their only form of goodbye was a little wave before parting down the sidewalk.

It was odd, but Kyle assumed it was the aftermath of a night of beer.

Kyle reached his home fairly quickly considering the walk was barely a house away, and he was greeted with the puberty ridden voice of his little brother. "Did you have a lot of fun last night, cranky?" 

Kyle barely had a moment to get inside before Ike's snarky voice ran down the halls. Kyle shut the door behind him, greeting his little brother on the couch with a confused glance.

"I saw everything on Cartman's private story," Ike explained in response with a snort. "If that was you tipsy, I don’t even wanna know what you're like drunk."

Alarmed, Kyle stuttered. "Stop fucking broadcasting it to the whole house. Is Ma home?"

"It's just us. Dad is at work, and Ma went to buy groceries."

Kyle let out a breath of relief, sliding onto the green cloth couch. "Thank god. Also, why are you on Cartman's private story and I'm not? And what the hell did he put on there?"

Ike rolled his eyes dismally. "Nothing too bad. Just you trying to give Stan a piggyback, and you making goo-goo eyes at Kenny while he was singing some song to you. Horribly, I might add." The boy claimed. "Cartman also posted a video of him locking you and your friends out of his house. You and Kenny were practically on top of each other."

"We were not. Why are you on Cartman's private story?"

"You totally were! Drooling all over the place—both of you were! You had heart eyes, I swear."

"Do you hang out with fatass or something?"

Ike fixed a look on his brother. "Jesus, you really don’t want to talk about Kenny. Do you like him or something?"

"I am not being defensive!"

"I never said you were." Ike let out a laugh. "This is exactly how you act when you don’t want to confront something."

Kyle shook his head offensively. "Fuck you. Do you want some fruit? I'm gonna go get some fruit." 

Ike sighed as he carefully watched Kyle march off into the kitchen. He stuck out his tongue at his brother although his back was already turned.

Kyle found himself stormily searching through the cabinets. 

_Fruit. Where's the fucking fruit? The fridge._

Kyle slammed a cabinet door shut, leaving no time to ponder on why he decided to go to the cabinets in the first place. His mind felt scrambled; torn apart and left with nothing logical. _Hangovers, man. It had to be the hangover._

He pulled out an apple and a sharp knife from the drawer to peel the damn thing. _It wasn’t that people claiming he liked Kenny was offensive. Kenny was a great friend. One of the best people he's ever known.__ But the prying had to be a fuckin' violation of human rights, or something like—SHIT!_

Kyle stared at the knife that was now in between his middle and pointer finger. Blood began to pour from the gash and Kyle was stunned to silence as he processed what had happened.

"Holy shit..." Kyle stared at the gash in his hand with quivering lips. In fact, he wasn’t feeling too hot—a little woozy too. "Holy shit!_ Ike!_ I'm _dying!_"

*

"So let me get this straight," Cartman exclaimed through bursts of laughter at the bus stop for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "You sliced your hand open with a knife meant to cut your fruit. Then your little brother comes in to hear you screaming your balls off, and you pass out because you're grossed out by blood. Then you hit your head on the way down, and have to cover the bump with your hat. Oh man, this is too good!"

Kyle had his arms crossed in a defiant (and more childish than he'd like to admit) pout. "Can you shut up for like, two seconds?" He grumbled without sparing Cartman a glance.

Kenny and Stan were on his left, and he ignored their muffled giggles over the situation. _Worst week ever_.

Stan noticed his friend's expression, and suppressed another laugh. "Dude... it's not as stupid as you think it sounds. You don’t have to be embarrassed. Besides, It's just between the four of us, right?"

Kyle shot him an unimpressed glare. "Your words would be more comforting if you weren't laughing like a maniac. This is degrading, Stan!"

Stan, that asshole, burst into yet another fit of laughter, and Cartman pulled out his phone, sending a voice message to one of his contacts. 

"Butters! You're not gonna believe this!" He exclaimed loudly into the phone.

"The four of us, and Butters." Stan added, smiling guiltily.

"I just want this week to be over." Kyle groaned, rubbing at his tired eyes with his bandaged hand.

"It's Monday. It just started." Kenny mentioned. Kyle frowned, and Kenny did his best to be a source of comfort. "Did you make a deal with the devil? Are you like, cursed for eternity with the worst luck ever?"

"A deal with the devil would've brought me good luck," Kyle answered before his expression lit up. "Speaking of which—"

"No, Kyle." Stan interrupted with a sigh. "You've been having bad luck ever since... Thursday right? What did you do?"

"I didn’t do anything!" Kyle quickly defended. "I'm a good person, right?"

Kenny chuckled. "The best."

Cartman had finished his voice message to Butters, and included himself back into the conversation. "You wanna know what I think, Kyle?"

"No."

"I think that it's because you're a Jew."

"I hate you so much, it's unreal."

Kenny opened his mouth to add a remark, but just before any final words could slip out, the school bus came dashing rapidly down the street.

SLAM!

"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"

Kyle stomped, throwing an angry fist up at the sky. "You bastards!"

Death was impulsive. Kenny had to realize that a long time ago.

The remaining three boys hadn't been hurt, although splatters of blood had got onto Stan's shoes. Stan didn’t seem to mind, and he didn’t so much as flinch at the scene.

Cartman rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. He hopped the bus steps to get to his seat and Stan followed. Kyle, on the other hand, hesitated before entering. 

Stan turned curiously. "Dude? The bus is here, c’mon.”

The redhead “Did I... forget something at home?"   


Stan checked his pockets for a moment, before looking back at his friend. "I have extra cash if you need some. I'm pretty sure you have everything else."

Kyle still hesitated to get on the bus and looked at his surroundings.

The post office. 

The abortion clinic.

Kenny's dead body.

The bank.

And Stan staring back at him.

No, nothing was out of place.

He expected to see a fallen star, or the clouds upside down. 

Instead, he saw nothing out of balance. Nothing new, and nothing to be remembered about the dead body that laid in the street.

"Never mind." Kyle quietly assured, before scrambling on the bus. Stan gave him a look that was borderline concerned and borderline confused as he watched his friend pass by.

He sighed before following him to sit in their signature seat. _It was going to be a long day._

*

It took until Wednesday for Kenny McCormick's eyes to open again. He sat up on his bed with a startled gasp; it was the way he always woke up after spending his days down below hanging around Satan and Damian.

Now, he was back. Again.

"Kenny, I made ya' breakfast!" Kevin's voice called out from the kitchen. "School starts soon, so hurry up!"

Life kept moving without him. The world kept turning, and Kenny couldn’t bring himself to understand. He just had to get used to it. 

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he stumbled down the hallway. "Coming, Kev!" He answered.

The only way to have a normal life was to pretend he never died.

Just like everyone else did.

*

“Kenny!” Kyle greeted brightly from down the hall. He waved and jogged to catch up with the blonde. “Dude, were you sick?”

Kenny blinked. This was new. “Uh… what?”

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Kyle explained, looking at him with concern. “Were you sick or what?”

Kenny didn’t know what to say. “You noticed?”

“Of course I did. You never miss school. Like, ever.”

He missed a week dozing off in the underworld last year and nobody noticed shit. What the hell was different?

"Kyle, what exactly do you remember about yesterday?" He decided to demand urgently.

"What's up with you? You're being weird. You weren't here yesterday. I didn’t see you all day."

Nobody ever remembered his death, and nobody ever remembered him being missing. Kenny felt like he couldn’t breathe.

"Hey, poor boy!" Cartman was approaching with Stan's frustrated figure trailing behind him.

Stan sighed, tossing a frown at Eric. "He won't quit bothering me about the math homework. We both didn’t do it, and Wendy won't let me copy hers. Did you do it?" 

"He obviously didn’t do it. He was sick." Kyle supplied when Kenny didn’t reply right away.

Stan looked at Kenny with confusion. "You were? Why didn’t you say anything?"

The blonde remained speechless._ Kyle remembered._ He remembered that he wasn’t present on Earth for a day, and Kenny couldn’t be any more lost. _What the fuck?_

Kyle decided to speak up once again. "What are you talking about, Stan? He wasn’t even here yesterday. How would you know?"

"Yeah, he was!" Stan exclaimed, before looking at Kenny. "Dude, seriously. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He replied quickly as he shook his head. "Listen, I... I gotta go."

Just as Kenny turned around to escape, Kyle gently grabbed a hold of his arm and searched his friend's expression. He kept his voice low as he softly whispered, "Are you okay? You weren't here yesterday, were you?"

Memory was a funny thing.

Cartman and Stan were staring at the two oddly, and Kenny recalled the thought that got him through the past seventeen years of his life.

_The only way to have a normal life was to pretend he never died._

He looked at Kyle, and Kenny became painfully aware of how heavily his own breaths had been coming in and out.

_Just like everyone else did._

"I was here yesterday, Ky." He forced the words out, before pointing to Stan and Cartman. "Just like they said. I was here."

Until he figured out what was going on, Kenny realized he had to play along with the rest of the world. The rest of the world, excluding Kyle Broflovski.

"I gotta go," Kenny repeated, more firm and sure of himself this time.

He was going to get to the bottom of this, even if it killed him._ Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these kids so much writing about them makes my entire day


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever, thank u 4 the nice reviews they make the process faster

Kenny McCormick had been running through theory after theory in the quiet of his room.

_Kyle didn’t remember him dying, but he remembered his absence._

He mentally wrote it down in his brain as he paced across his carpet.

_Stan and Cartman still had the same thought process that everyone else on earth had for years. _

"For fuck's sake." Kenny mumbled as his phone began to vibrate. He had more important things to do.

He let it ring. 

_Kyle's bad luck and the remembrance of his disappearance had to be connected. They had to be._

_And if Kenny died for a week next time, what would Kyle do then? Ask Karen? Call the cops? Mourn him? _

_Would he even remember?_

The phone began to ring once again. Kenny groaned loudly and marched over to the sound with a ball of stress building in his brain. He couldn’t think with all the noise.

"_WHAT!_" He blurted into the device.

"Fuck, Kenny! Are you trying to murder my ears or something?" Stan's voice yelped through the phone.

Kenny sighed with frustration and rubbed circles over his temple. "Listen, Stan. Sorry... it's just—I'm kind of busy."

"My bad, dude. I swear this is quick. Wanna come over tomorrow after school? Kyle has a yearbook meeting and then he can meet us.”

Kyle. _Kyle_. He had to keep him safe.

“Kenny?”

“Yeah… yeah. Sorry. I’ll be there.”

Stan paused for a moment. “Alright… are you okay?”

“Yeah, I gotta go.”

“You’ve been acting weird.” Stan noted slowly. “I’m here for you if—“

“I gotta go.” Kenny interrupted more decisively. “I’ll be there tomorrow, I promise.”

_Just keep Kyle safe._

Stan didn’t reply for a while, and Kenny could hear him tapping the table in a thought process through the phone. 

Kenny didn’t have time for silence. “Bye, Stan.”

Stan didn’t get the chance to reply before the blonde hung up.

*

Kyle sat beside Wendy after school during their yearbook meeting. There were about seven kids on the committee, and Wendy was their unspoken leader.

She had become good friends with Kyle throughout high school. They shared more than a few common interests, and it had become a joke around school that Stan was in love with the girl form of Kyle Broflovski. Despite how uncomfortable the comments made the two of them (including poor stan), they ended up becoming close friends and were able to use their similar study habits to help out each other.

Wendy spent the first few minutes of the meeting filling out a sheet of which students were filling out what sections of the 2020 yearbook and the lower classmen smiled proudly when she expressed her encouragement for the members on her board this year. She ended the pep-talk with a thumbs up before releasing them to work on their own assigned departments of the yearbook as students scattered among the classroom.

Kyle took a seat next to Wendy, who was working on the layout of _D__aily Life in South Park High! _on her laptop. She stroke her long hair absentmindedly, before turning curiously to Kyle. "Why is Kenny missing in a lot of the pictures of you and the rest of the guys?"

"Huh?"

"Like, there's this picture I'm using of you, Stan and Cartman doing phony smiles for some camera that a teacher was using. And there's another one of Craig, Tweek, Token, Clyde, Butters, Stan, Cartman and you... but there's no Kenny." Wendy frowned thoughtfully. "Where was he? I don’t think there's one of him in this entire yearbook!"

Kyle shrugged. "I guess sometimes he just isn't in school, right?" 

"I don’t remember him being absent too often," Wendy sighed. "I just feel bad. There's like, almost four pictures of every student in here, whether it be them in the background or posing for some camera, but it's like Kenny is just never here."

"I'm sure he'd be content with the lack of attention," Kyle said with a fond, somewhat sad, smile. "He's like that. He doesn’t like being in the spotlight unless it's with the people he knows well. He's really chatty and... passionate about things like, sexual stuff—but only when he's with me, Stan and Cartman. He hates crowds and when he gets nervous, he pulls up his hood and tightens it to hide inside himself. I'm sure it was no accident that he isn't in these pictures. Being the sneaky son of a bitch that he is, he probably hid from cameras, you know? He's quiet when he needs to be."

Wendy let out a teasing smile. "You talk a lot, you know that, Kyle?"

"For your information, I talk a perfectly reasonable amount when something needs to be said. If anyone—" Kyle stopped speaking, taking notice of the quiet hum above him. He looked at Wendy urgently. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" She questioned doubtfully.

"The ceiling is like, creaking or something."

Wendy looked up with alarm. "Ah, shit. Should we tell someone?"

Kyle didn’t get the chance to reply before rumbling filled his ears and everything around him abruptly shot to black.

*

While Cartman picked on Butters and while Butters accepted the unreasonable attention, Stan nudged Kenny. "I need fucking earplugs for the next time we decide to walk home with Cartman."

"If I have to hear fatass threaten Butters by kicking him in the nuts one more time, I think I'd have to suffocate myself."

"The worst part is that Butters encourages it," Stan remarked, keeping his voice quiet enough so that the two who walked a few feet ahead couldn't hear. "There's gotta be something wrong with that poor kid."

"We've known him since kindergarten. It's just been built into his system."

"And it all goes back to Cartman being the fattest, bitchiest, dick in the whole world."

"Hey!" Cartman turned around, arms crossed over his big belly. "I heard that!"

Stan shrugged with an unimpressed expression. "I wasn’t trying to hide it,"

Kenny let out a cackle as Cartman began to fume loudly. Butters shifted on the balls of his feet nervously, trying to hide his fear over the fact that Cartman's anger could be redirected toward him.

It didn’t take long for Kenny to notice this, and he made no hesitation to give an easy grin and wrap an arm around the stiff, small boy. "Hey, you wanna come to Stan's house with me and him? It's an absolute Cartman free zone." Kenny wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "One step above Heaven."

Butters twiddled his thumbs together, a hopeful smile spreading. "Oh, gee. Well thanks, Kenny!"

"It's no problem," He exclaimed in response, his focus shifting to Stan and Cartman's bickering.

“You’re such a hippie, Stan!”

“I’d rather be a hippie than a fatass turd!”

“I’m not fat, you asshole! I’m big boned!”

“You’re big everything!”

Kenny rolled his eyes, a fond smile tracing along with his expression. 

Stan took out his phone with frustration as Cartman continued to spout useless arguments.

What Stan intended to do when he opened up his phone, was to text Kyle to hurry up because he couldn’t stand to argue Cartman alone anymore.

Instead, his eyes widened as he opened his texts. 

Stan’s face was suddenly white, and he looked to Kenny with wide eyes.

“Wendy just texted me from yearbook club. She says a ceiling tile fell on Kyle's head.”

Kenny took a step back, growing pale._ This couldn’t be happening. _“He’s okay though, right?” 

“She said he has a concussion and is in the emergency room right now.” Stan’s hands were jumpy, and the phone shifted restlessly in his grasp. “Shit.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_,” Kenny hissed. “Let’s go see him then. Can you drive?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan jumbled out. He reached for the keys in his pockets and headed over to his car with disbelief continuing to guide his expression. “Uh, Butters, can you run to my place and tell my parents what happened so they know where I am?”

Butters nodded quickly, his eyes wide with worry. “Text me how he is when you get there, fellas.”

“Yeah, we will.” 

Cartman had an eager smile on his face. “Oh, man. Best day ever!”

Stan grabbed Kenny’s arm before he could lunge at Cartman as he led them to the Marsh family driveway and into his car.

“A ceiling tile. A ceiling tile fell.” Kenny repeated out loud, sending Stan a disbelief look as they shut the car doors. 

“Seriously, what the fuck.” Stan replied shakily. “I'm fucking... scared. I—I was just kidding when I said he was cursed. We haven't dealt with anything this crazy for years. Fuck."

“Yeah, no kidding.” Kenny answered breathlessly.

It almost reminded him of something all too familiar in Kenny’s mind.

_BANG!_

_“ Oh my god, they killed Kenny! ”_

_“ You bastards! ”_

No. It couldn’t be.

Kenny shook his head, attempting to break away from the thoughts that clouded his brain like a raging thunderstorm.

It couldn’t be.

*

Kyle was alright, considering the circumstances. 

He had a bandage wrapped around his head, or rather, his signature hat. Other than that and a scratch on his cheek, he wore an enthusiastic smile when Kenny and Stan walked through the door.

He sat upwards, shifting excitedly. "Guys—hey!"

Stan scrambled over, holding gentle arms open for a hug. Kyle moved forward to fall into the embrace, and Stan took a seat on his bed as he refused to let go of until they both felt at ease. He grinned widely. "Dude, thank god you're okay!"

Kenny, who watched from the doorway, suddenly felt a bit out of place. He smiled watching his two friends, but the restless beating of his fearful heart did not come to a halt. Kyle's unfortunate luck had reminded him far too much of his own experiences on a weekly basis.

"Hi, Kenny." Kyle spoke, his eyes looking up once he realized the blonde's position in the corner. "I'm really glad you're here. Thanks for coming; both of you."

"It's the least we could do," McCormick responded as he made his way over to sit in the plastic chair. "You've had a rotten week."

The redhead laughed. "Next time I'll get struck by lightning."

Kenny had to resist the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in a grimace. 

"When are they letting you out?" Stan asked. "Is your head okay?"

"Other than having a hundred pounds of red hair, yes." Kyle answered with an eye roll. "I have to wait for my parents to get off work so they can release me. They’ll be here soon.”

"Well, don’t crack your skull on your way out." Stan exclaimed with a snort.

Kenny practically flinched.

It took an instant for Kyle to notice Kenny’s posture and frowned. "You okay? If being in a hospital is too much for you we can—”

"No, I'm fine! I'm just... really glad you're okay."

A watery smile spread over the boy's expression, and he and Kenny's eyes met lightly as their connection became smooth as melting ice. 

"So what the hell happened anyway?" Stan asked curiously, scooching over to give Kenny room to sit.

"Dude, the chance had to be one in a million." Kyle began, not settling Kenny's nerves at all. "I'm lucky that a pipe was leaking in the ceiling so it was all wet and soggy when it fell on me. The leak made it weak and I happened to be sitting right underneath it when it collapsed."

_Kenny felt sick. One in a million. _

"It’s like the universe is out to get you or something, huh?” Kenny barely realized how much his voice was shaking and Kyle looked at him weirdly.

_One in a million._

*

Kyle showed up at Stan’s doorway two days later.

“Dude, what the hell happened to you?” Stan asked as he examined his best friend’s wet wide eyes with alarm.

Kyle wiped at his eyes and Stan made no hesitation to tug him inside and out of the night sky.

“Stan, I don’t know what the fuck to do. I’m— I’m screwed!”

“Shh, my mom will hear.” Stan scrambled to say. "It's late. Why are you up?"

"It's all fucked, okay? Fucked!"

"Shh!" It didn’t take long for Stan to realize his friend was in hysterics, and also was all in all, very dramatic. "Listen, tell me what's going on. _Quietly_."

He led Kyle over to the couch as the redhead wiped away tears of frustration. "My life is over!"

"You're being dramatic," Stan remarked, rubbing his back. "Like, _really _dramatic, Kyle. It can't be that bad. What is it?"

It was then that Kyle looked at his friend with a dazed and tear stricken gaze. His voice came out in a soft whisper and it seemed as if he couldn’t even believe the words himself.

"I think I like Kenny."

Stan let out a sigh before laughing lightly. "Well, duh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle exclaimed, swatting Stan's shoulder.

"I told you that you liked him. I told you that he likes you! After the party, dude! It's perfect... you can tell him how you feel and he'll feel the same way so—"

"Are you insane?" Kyle interrupted in the dramatic fashion that made Stan sigh. "He doesn’t like me like that. After all, he flirts with everyone. He's... I could never tell him."

"Kyle, you're an idiot."

"I didn’t come over here to get called an idiot."

"You're still an idiot."   
  
Kyle groaned into his palms and Stan gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. He sighed with exasperation. _Friggin' dumbasses._

*

Kenny entered the classroom during first period with a bright smile on his face.

He, as well as Cartman, Stan, and Kyle sat at their signature table in Mr. Garrison’s math class. 

“Guess who got first place for most ‘date-worthy’ on the girl’s new list!” He beamed as a greeting after taking his seat.

Cartman looked up eagerly. “What’d they say about me? Who said it?”

“Not you, dumbass.” Kenny answered, before pointing to himself proudly. “_Me!_ I heard Bebe and Red talking about it on the bleachers this morning.”

“They’re still doing those lists?” Stan asked with doubt. 

"Of course they're still doing it—they're girls." Kyle replied with a roll of his eyes. The redhead crossed his arms as he looked away and toward the empty chalkboard ahead. Class hadn't begun yet, seeing as Mr. Garrison had always shown up several minutes late, but the redhead chose to focus on the sight ahead. 

"Dude, you know what that means, right? The girls are gonna be all over you." Stan remarked warily. "Once you've made it to the top of the list, you become every girl's worshiped target. They practically play cupid."

Before Kenny got the chance to reply, Kyle scoffed loudly. "That's so fucking stupid. Who would even think of that idea? The girls are so friggin' weird. Seriously, what the hell? That's... it's sick!"

Cartman was the first to reply after a moment passed. "Kyle, stop bitching just because they chose a poor boy who counts a can of corn for dinner over a stinkin' Jew."

"I'm not mad! I just think it's stupid, fatass!"

"Sounds like jealousy to me." Cartman exclaimed gleefully with a taunting lull to his words. "Are you jealous over the fact that they didn’t pick your candy ass instead, or the fact that someone better than you wants Kenny?"

Stan was quick to cross his arms. "Oh, shut up already, dude."

"I can speak for myself, Stan." Kyle hissed and Stan tossed him a frown. "I'm not fucking jealous! Just... god, whatever. You suck, Cartman. You fucking suck."

Cartman "Looks like someone has sand in their—"

"I DON'T HAVE _SAND IN MY__VAGINA!_"

The entire class went quiet, and the spark in Kyle's eyes disappeared. His eyes widened as he slapped his hands over his mouth. The classroom stared with parted lips and raised eyebrows before a few giggles floated across the walls.

Kyle always let Cartman get the best of him.

But Kyle also knew how to get Cartman back.

The redhead slowly stood with fading red cheeks. Some would expect a kid in that situation to cry out of embarrassment, or to sink down in their chair wishing to disappear.

Kyle was different.

In one swift motion, he kicked over Cartman's chair, sending the fat boy tumbling down with it.

_God, Kenny loved him._

Maybe if Kyle had stayed in place, he would've heard the applause and cackling laughter at Eric Cartman's fate. But by the time Kenny looked up, Kyle had stomped out of the classroom without taking a second to look back.

"Holy shit!" Stan exclaimed with a wide grin. His face fell as he looked around the room before glancing curiously at Kenny. "Hey, where'd Kyle go?"

"I'll go get him," Kenny answered quickly. He loved_ him_, he _loved him_, _he loved him. Fuck._

He didn’t wait for Stan to reply before dashing out of the bubbling classroom filled with laughter from peers and shouts from Cartman.

_He fucking loved him._

Kenny shook his head with frustration, hoping that the continuous thought would fly away and away and away.

With the thought, however, it seemed that the floor began to shift.

Jesus, the floor was really,_ really_ tilting.

"A fucking earthquake?" Kenny was totally going to kill Satan for this later, and he yelled out to the hard ground below him. "Give me a break!"

But there was something peculiar about the direction that the shaking seemed to be coming from.

Kenny only took a moment to pause as realization sunk in.

Then he ran toward the source of the rumbling.

"Kyle!"

This wasn’t about, _oh my god, they killed Kenn__y_ anymore, was it?

No, this was about the person he might've cared about more than any other friend in the world. 

"Kenny?" Kyle's voice._ Thank God. _"What the hell is happening!"

Kenny felt the ground grow shakier with each step as he quickly but cautiously began to near the school bathroom.

He stumbled through the door to find Kyle desperately clinging onto one of the sinks. His eyes filled with comfort and relief at the sight of Kenny's figure, but the fear didn’t leave his tone as he spoke.

"This is my bad luck, isn't it?" He strangled out as another wave of rumbles hit the room. "Jesus fucking Christ; it's gonna kill everybody!"

Kyle's bad luck. Since when did Kyle Broflovski have bad luck? He always got perfect scores on exams, and he could play basketball better than anyone Kenny knew. When did it all start?

Kenny felt his breath hitch as another shift hit the ground and he was thrown on top of Kyle, who crashed onto the floor.

"It's all my fault. Kyle, I'm so, so sorry."

"Kenny, talk to me! How is it your fault!" Kyle's tone was worried, shaky.

"I'm sorry, Ky." Kenny latched himself onto Kyle to steady them both as another grand shift wavered the school's bathroom. With tears choking up his shaky voice, he made sure to look Kyle in the eye. His peppermint eyes that held sparks of fear, concern, and a touch of several tears that he was too proud to let leak.

_Please don’t take him away from me._

"I'm sorry that I dragged you into my mess, and I'm sorry that the world is trying to destroy you, and it's all because the universe hates me, and it's all because I like _you!" _Kenny let out a cry, his words falling into one jumbled mess. "I really, really like you and it's all my fucking fault!"

_CRASH!_

Kenny McCormick felt a pressure of debris fall down onto him. He could hear Kyle begging for him to get up, to crawl out, and Kenny tried to stay awake to make sure that Kyle was okay.

If Kenny stuck around a moment longer, he would've felt the shaking draw to a halt. Instead, the dizzy tilt of his own vision became too much to fight, and against his wishes, his eyes softly slipped shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent a while on this chapter; the final one should be up by before thanksgiving! it's not so much of a halloween fic anymore but who cares.


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really short chapter to wrap things up hope you enjoyed!

When Kenny opened his eyes, he expected to see Satan staring down at him with disproval. Maybe Pip would be chattering away in the background next to the flames or maybe he would see Chef making his way over to curiously question how everybody back on earth was.

Instead, the surroundings around him presented white walls and a white ceiling. He blinked forcibly to adjust to the bright light and every voice and sound seemed so far and distant.

Had he made it to Heaven? After all this time?

“Cartman, if you don’t stop drooling crumbs all over the floor, I’ll kill you.”

Nope, definitely not heaven.

He spoke the first words that came to mind with a rash, dry voice. “Kyle?”

“Kenny… you’re awake.” No, that was Stan’s voice. “Dude, how’re you feeling?”

“S’everyone okay? Where’s Kyle?”

“Kyle’s sleeping, but he’s right here. You’ve been out for about 22 hours and he hadn’t really slept until I came down here and forced him to.” Stan paused and sighed. “He was really, really scared for you. We all were.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m here for the free pudding.” Cartman remarked with a mouth full of food.

Stan practically growled. “That pudding wasn’t for you, fatass! It came with Kenny’s meal!”

Kenny’s eyes began to shift into focus to see Stan sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. He wore a watery smile and his eyes were puffy from an explanation that would only conclude to crying. Kenny felt the worn-out pillows that sat him upright, and his eyes searched for a certain redhead.

He found all his muscles relax when his eyes found Kyle, who was slumped on his side fast asleep. He looked more worn down than Kenny had ever seen, but otherwise unharmed besides the scratch on his knee and the bandage on his arm.

Kenny felt the need to cry, but against his better judgment, he sucked in a deep breath and looked to Stan. “What happened? Is he hurt?”

“There's barely a scratch... It’s a miracle you two aren’t dead.” Stan began softly. “The earthquake wasn’t very powerful anywhere outside of the bathroom, which is where you guys happened to be. The room is a complete wreck; some people started spreading rumors that you died when the ambulance showed up. Kyle said that you did something to stop the earthquake? You saved his life.”

“Did something to stop it? Why am I not dead?” He questioned thoughtfully.

“Kyle got you out of there just in time.” Stan added gently. "Listen, I'm gonna go get the doctor to let him know you're up, okay? Cartman, c'mon."

"Why do I have to go?" 

"Because we can't leave your fatass alone with Kenny's food!"

Cartman began his complaints as Stan practically dragged him out of the room. 

Kenny felt himself nod. Being the asshole that he was, Cartman slammed the door shut on his way out.

The noise was enough to make Kyle flinch awake, but all fear left his eyes at the sight of Kenny.

"Oh my god... you're okay!"

Kenny didn’t waste a second. "How much do you remember?" 

Kyle sat up, shifting uncomfortably and biting his lip with hesitation. "Everything... I remember every bit, Kenny." He seemed to question himself more and paused a moment before continuing. "Do you?"

"I— I should be the one who's apologizing." Kenny didn’t see the point in hiding anything at this point. "I like you, Kyle. And I'm sorry that I do."

Kyle opened his mouth to object before he took a deep breath, looking into Kenny's eyes with a remising smile. "You know, I think I've learned something today."

"Oh god, Ky."

"Because the thing is, you don’t have to be sorry. I think a part of it was the universe realizing I liked you too. And it might sound strange, but I think you admitting your feelings could've stopped it. The moment you... confessed, the earthquake _stopped. _I've never seen anything like it. I know it sounds crazy, but it's been almost 24 hours and nothing bad has happened to me. I think it's because you confessed. I think the universe was trying to... find a way to set us up."

"But how do you know for sure?" Kenny was desperate for a sense of safety for Kyle. He needed to know that luck as bad as that would never happen to him again.

"Well, it's kind of a long story. After the ambulance came to take you away, they had to bring me to a small little room to patch me up and check for injuries. There was a bunch of sharp objects in the room, but not once did I even come close to danger. When I realized the bad luck might be over, I had to make sure by taking the stairs up here instead of the escalator. I didn’t use the banister, and at some points, I even closed my eyes, but I never fell. Never even stumbled. It's been 22 hours and not one bad thing has happened to me. It's been 22 hours and the worst thing I've experienced is seeing you out cold in a hospital bed."

Kenny didn’t know what to say. The calming taste of relief flooded through his brain, and he found himself letting out a laugh. "You talk so much."

Kyle smiled at the familiarity of the light in Kenny's eyes. "I've been told."

It was comfortably quiet for a few moments before Kenny's grin was replaced with a look of pure fear. "But be honest... do you really think it's over?"

"I do." He replied with little to no hesitation. 

Kenny felt Kyle gently grasp his hand. "And... do you want to be like... more than frie—"

"I do."

For the first time in a long time, Kenny felt like everything was going to be okay.

Maybe the universe had a place for Kenny McCormick after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was a little lazy but thanks for all the insp from comments and kudos; very much appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> i was going thru a bit of a writer's block and it might take me a while to find my way back to my other fic we all float down here. i'll try my best and i really appreciate any feedback so lmk what you think!


End file.
